Loremaster Page 10

  “In some places. But in most places, it’s just a normal old demesne, like Vella’s palace, except without the nasty water part.”

  “I run on water, you know,” I said. “Sixty percent of my body is water.”

  “Well there’s water in there. We just keep it, you know, out of the way. Like it should be.”

  A jet of steam hissed out the side of the mountain, as though it had read my mind.

  “See?” Flicker said. “Water.”

  “That was water running away screaming.”

  “Big baby. You’re going to love it,” Flicker said.

  She skipped toward one of the big lava rivers and jumped in. I almost “eeped” before I could catch myself. But Flicker was all right, of course. She did the backstroke on the lava, heading toward the “top” of the upside-down mountain. I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. White lines, blue in-between and . . .

  “Holey moley!” I said, spinning around, looking at the entire sky.

  “Squeak,” Squeak said, and even I could tell there was surprise in his squeak.

  Flicker sat up in the lava, followed my gaze. “Your rip is gone,” she said.

  I stared. Eventually, I closed my mouth.

  Squeak smoothed his whiskers, then winked at me.

  “You can say that again,” I said.

  Flicker jumped out of the lava. Her hair was moving faster, dripping and reappearing at her forehead. And she was like a red-hot stove. I stepped back.

  “It’s a whole new world when you get a new outfit, isn’t it?” Flicker said. She spun around, and her dress flared into a floor-length gown. She shook her arms out and suddenly she was wearing a stylish mini-coat. “’Well hello,’” she said, imitating my voice. “’My name is Lorelei. Do you like my new coat? It's blue and sparkly and it heals the sky. What’s your coat do?’”

  I gazed up at the amazing, unripped sky. I had never seen Veloran this way. “It’s just . . . beautiful,” I said.

  “Squeak.”

  “The way it should be,” Flicker said.

  “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get our friends.”

  Flicker led us through the flat ground of zig-zaggy lava rivers. Lumps of volcanic rock had tumbled to a stop everywhere, left over from one of the mountain’s eruptions, no doubt. That was spooky enough. But for the full creepo-effecto, some of the volcano rock lumps looked like people, twisted sculptures with heads the size of pumpkins. Some of the sculptures’ arms were as long as a fence post and some as short as a stirring spoon. Some had three or four or five legs. One had two legs shaped like a spider’s. It was as though another group had been walking here, then got hit with a lava blast that turned them all into zombie rocks. Had Jimmy done this? Had these been Doolivantis?

  The nearer we came to the spout of the volcano, the more nervous I felt. It was bad enough being in the shadow of a gazillion tons of floating rock; I didn’t want to get shot by a lava cannon, too. I stuck close to Flicker.

  When we were nearly underneath the thing, Flicker stopped, looking up at the dark mountain. She squinted, then moved to the right, squinted up again. “Somewhere here,” she murmured to herself. She shuffled a little bit more to the right, her feet at the sharp bank of one of the zigzag lava rivers.

  “Yep,” she said. “Right here.” She stepped out over the river, but instead of falling in, she flew upward. She somersaulted and landed on her feet . . . on the mountain above us. Upside down.

  “What!” I called up to her. “How did you do that?”

  She was about twenty feet above us and looking “up” at me and Squeak.

  “It’s a gravity well,” she called to us. “You just have to step right into the middle of it, and gravity will flip. It’ll carry you up here.”

  I skitched close to the edge of the river. Nothing happened.

  “You have to step out over the lava,” she said. “Don’t worry, you won’t fall. Or, well, you’ll fall up. Not into the lava.”

  I’d just seen her do it. I knew it could be done. But if it didn’t work, I’d be a cinder. Or at least have my legs burnt off.

  “Squeak,” said Squeak. He raced forward, jumped off the edge and flew upward just like Flicker had done.

  I let out a breath, pulled out my pen. If it didn’t work, I was going to have to write fast. I stepped out over the lava.

  And fell.

  “Oh, great!” I yelled as the lava came closer.

  “To the left,” Flicker shouted.

  I spun left. My face came right up to the lava as the gravity well took hold and yanked me upward. I squeaked. Yes, I did.

  Now I was hurtling toward the side of a mountain, and I was completely twerbled about. I flipped like an awkward cat, barely landing on my feet. I skidded down the slope, then fell on my butt.

  The “sky” was now a big, flat, very close ceiling of cracked earth, lava rivers and tormented lava sculpture people.

  Flicker leapt nimbly down the slope. “You nearly flubbed that, didn’t you?” Flicker said. “I thought you were going to burn yourself up.”

  “Thanks a lot.”

  “It’s astonishing, really,” Flicker said. “You do the impossible with a wave of your wand, and then you flub the easiest thing in the world.”

  “I take the path less traveled.”

  “Come on.” She grinned, pulled me to my feet.

  She led us up the slope to a weedy hole in the ground with tough grass growing around the edge, leaning over and into it.

  “This is it?” I asked. I imagined a Fire Palace would have a grand entrance, like in The Lord of the Rings—all elvish script and giant statues, or something. Not a big badger hole.

  “Watch your footing,” she said, and jumped into the hole. Squeak scampered after her.

  I peeked my head down and couldn’t see a thing. “It’s pitch black.”

  “Squeak,” Squeak encouraged from the dark.

  A red light flared, illuminating the earthy walls. “Come on, mighty mighty Jump Flubber,” Flicker said. “The boogeyman isn’t going to get you.”

  “I’m going to write your mouth shut,” I said, grabbing the edges and lowering myself in. Thick chunks of wet earth came off the sides as I slid down and fell on my butt on the floor. There goes my nice, new clean clothes. Flicker stood in front of me in the center of the tunnel, shaking her hands free of the wet muck. Her fingers flared, burning the rest of the moisture away with a hiss.

  I touched the wall. Everything else in this land was dry and hot, but this tunnel was wet. So wet, it seemed like the earth walls were about to crumble in on us.

  “So this is where all the water in your palace is?” I said.

  “Thought you’d like that. Yeah, I hate this tunnel. I never use it. Which means that none of the fire creatures your boyfriend took from me will come here either.”

  “Jimmy is not my boyfriend.”

  “You’re the one with all the hand-holding star comments. Kissy kissy kissy.”

  “I’d rather kiss a toilet seat.”

  Flicker chuckled. “Anyway, nobody ever comes to this tunnel because they’re sane.”

  “Why is it so wet?”

  “Ask the Doolivanti who made it. Maybe he liked soggy, smelly tunnels,” she said.

  “I thought you made your . . . demesne,” I tried the new word. It felt awkward on the tongue.

  “Naw. I saw the volcano. It was floating upside down. It was full of amazing fire creatures. I moved in right away and it slowly became mine.”

  “And the Doolivanti living here didn’t mind?” I asked.

  “Her name was SoulSearcher, and she was long gone, though the fire beasties she left behind had lots of stories about her. The Wishing World is like that. It has all kinds of things, creatures, and places that kids created a long time ago, then left behind.”

  Flicker led the way down the tunnel. It opened up into a great chasm, wide and round. “This is the Sarchasm,” she said, pointing at the field of circular rock pi
llars that rose up in the chasm, each about ten feet apart. From overhead, they would have looked like polka dots, they were so evenly spaced. “Those are Conclusion Pillars,” Flicker said. “SoulSearcher made this place, and this entire demesne, actually. Well, sort of.”

  “How do you ‘sort of’ make something?”

  “Well she didn’t make it like you would make it. ‘Poof’ here you go, have a mountain,” Flicker said.

  “I don’t do that.”

  “You totally do that.”

  I cleared my throat and tried to keep her on task. “How did she make the mountain?”

  “A Lava Dragon brought it for her. See, SoulSearcher was a magnet for broken, misfit monsters. She took care of them, and they took care of her. She didn’t see the slobber and slime on a beast, or if they had fifty hairy toes and ridged scales all over their bodies.”

  “She looked past all that,” I said, liking this SoulSearcher.

  Flicker shook her head. “No. Literally, she couldn’t see them. She was blind.”

  “Oh!”

  “But that was at the root of her power, too. She couldn’t see physical appearances, but she saw into souls. Right into the ‘you’ that you really are.”

  That sounded like a power I needed. Maybe Vella should have chosen SoulSearcher to be the next steward of the Wishing World.

  “No matter what you wanted to hide, SoulSearcher could see it, but she’d never make you suffer for it. She protected you, loved those quirky, hidden things. She made you feel larger because of them. Her kindness became legendary, and word got around. Soon, packs of ghastly or fearsome-looking creatures flocked to her. They had been driven away from their homes for one reason or another, and SoulSearcher took them all in, made them feel wanted. And they took care of her in return, did things for her. That’s how this magnificent volcano came to be. A Lava Dragon ripped it from the ground. A flock of other fire beasties turned it upside down and still others made it float. I’m not sure how they did that, but it’s a neat trick.” She shrugged. “Anyway, all of these friends of SoulSearcher worked together to make the safest, most protected home for their keeper.”

  “A Lava Dragon can rip an entire mountain out of the ground?”

  “Ever met a Lava Dragon?” she asked.

  “No,” I said, thinking I preferred my monsters feathery and beaky with deep voices that made you feel safe. “What about the Sarchasm?” I asked.

  “Site of an epic battle.”

  “Waitaminute. SoulSearcher doesn’t sound like an ‘epic battle’ kind of person.”

  “Nope. She wasn’t, but she wasn’t home at the time. It was her beast friends trying to do what they thought she would do, and things got out of hand. See, an injured Kaleidopony wandered close to the volcano. It had a big shaggy head and fur that looked like a rainbow, and its back leg was broken, leaving a sparkly rainbow trail behind it when it hobbled. It was exactly the kind of creature SoulSearcher would have taken in, so her beasts lifted it up onto the volcano and created a room for it, small and high-walled so it couldn’t get out and hurt itself more. They keep it safe, fed it, and waited for SoulSearcher to return and tell them what to do.”

  “And the pit they kept it in was the Sarchasm?” I asked, looking down.

  Flicker rolled her eyes. “Does that look safe for an injured Kaleidopony?”

  “You said it had high walls.”

  Flicker ignored me. “So along comes another Doolivanti named Rainbow Rider, looking for his lost Kaleidopony. Rainbow Rider finds it trapped here, its leg broken, surrounded by slavering monsters. He thinks the Lava Dragon, the Kersnipper, the Fangalock, the Bulbroar, and the Riggiwazoom are going to devour his friend. A reasonable conclusion to jump to, yes?”

  I couldn’t answer because I was laughing. “A Riggiwa-what?”

  Flicker’s eyebrows flared. She frowned at me and ignored my question. “So Rainbow Rider blows a hole in the mountain to free the Kaleidopony and attacks SoulSearcher’s well-meaning—if fearsome-looking—friends. SoulSearcher’s friends leap forward to protect their new Kaleidopony, and the fight begins. SoulSearcher comes home to a rainbow bridge up the side of the mountain. Rainbow Rider had seven different fire beasties pinned to the slope, one for each color of the rainbow. A flock of winged garguphants is diving at a translucent rainbow ball with Rainbow Rider inside, and it’s slowly rolling into the big hole in the mountain.” She turned and pointed at the passage we had just entered. “Right there.”

  “Cool,” I said.

  “It was a mess,” Flicker said.

  “Did she freak out?”

  “No. She talked to her Grimrok sorcerer friend. He separated Rainbow Rider from the army of beasts that was waiting to attack him.”

  “A Grimrok sorcerer?” I exclaimed.

  She shot back a cannonball of sarcasm. “An attentive listener?”

  “Hey, I’m just curious.”

  “Be curious when I’m finished.”

  I shut my mouth.

  Flicker narrowed her eyes at me and let the silence stretch, as though waiting for me to blurt another interruption. When she was satisfied, she continued, “Yes. So the Grimrok dropped the floor and created these pillars to keep him back. While Rainbow Rider was figuring a way around, SoulSearcher looked into his soul and saw that he was just scared for the Kaleidopony, and that her friends were also just trying to help the Kaleidopony. So she started talking, and she calmed everybody down. She was really good at that, knowing just what to say because she knew exactly how to touch their hearts. She left the Sarchasm as a reminder that jumping to conclusions blows things out of proportion.”

  I waited. She watched me, chin lifted.

  “Now can I ask questions?” I asked.

  “Now you can ask questions.”

  “What happened to SoulSearcher? Why doesn’t she live here anymore?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a bit of a mystery. I think she went back to Earth or wherever she came from. Kids who long for home, or get too serious . . . they don’t stay long in Veloran.”

  “Really?”

  “They grow up.” She shrugged. “That’s how the Sand Spinner left.”

  “I thought Jimmy killed the Sand Spinner,” I said.

  “Really? I think he went back to Earth. He was always talking about Cone Island. Said he wanted to see it again. And he really wanted to eat dogs.”

  “Dogs?”

  “That’s what he said. And ride coaler roasters.”

  “Roller coasters!” I laughed. “You’re talking about Coney Island. That’s in New York.”

  “Yes!” She pointed at me. “Coney Island. That’s the one.”

  “And it’s hot dogs, not just dogs.”

  “Well, I’ve never eaten a dog, but if I did, I’d want it to be hot.”

  “They’re not actually dogs.”

  She wrinkled her brow. “I don’t understand that.”

  I thought a moment. “Yeah,” I said. “I don’t think anybody does.” I waved it away. “Never mind.”

  “And you live in New York, too?” she asked.

  “No. I’m from Colorado.”

  She looked at me blankly.

  “Long ways away,” I said. “You’d like it. It’s warm and dry in the summer with lots of great rocks to climb on. Oh, and you can go skiing in the winter.” I paused. “Or, wait. Actually, that might not be so great for you.”

  “Skiing?”

  “It’s pretty fun. You strap long pieces of slippery metal to your feet so you can slide down a mountain. And if you’re my brother, you do it at Warp 9.”

  I could almost see the gears working in Flicker’s head. “I could do that here at my mountain.”

  “Except you’d need snow.”

  “Yerch. What for?” she asked.

  “For the sliding.”

  “No. Lava,” she said.

  I pictured myself sliding down the lava rivers outside and then tried to unpicture it.

  “What is Warp 9?”
she asked.

  “Are you serious?” I said. “Girl, we’re going to have to introduce you to a Star Trek marathon when all this is over.”

  “Yes!” she said. “What is that?”

  “I’ll tell you later. Right now, though, Jimmy,” I said, gesturing to the Sarchasm. “How do we get across?”

  She faced the Conclusion Pillars. The top of each was only about the size of a plate. “So they’re conclusions.” She pointed at them. “You jump to them, one after the other. All the way across.”

  The Sarchasm was dizzying, stretching away into blackness. A cool air blew up from below. It seemed so backward to have this place in a volcano. The Wishing World was so varied. One moment an ocean, the next a volcano. One moment hot, the next moment cold—

  “Nom e nom e nom e nom!”

  The Enterruption rushed into the cavern.

  “Are you kidding me?” I said. “What are they doing here?”

  They ran along the edge of the Sarchasm all the way to the wall, then ran back. They nearly knocked me into the hole, but Flicker caught my arm.

  The Enterruption somehow bent over and shoved themselves in the tunnel we’d just entered and scuttled forward until they were gone. A second later, the little one hurried along the edge of the chasm, scrambled into the hole, then up the wet slope with its high-pitched, “Nom e nom e nom e nom . . .”

  “Are they totally following us or what?” I asked. “Where do they come from?”

  “Squeak,” said Squeak, watching the retreating trees with his whiskers twitching.

  “The pillars are smaller than I remember,” Flicker said, ignoring the Enterruption. “They must shrink over time.”

  I joined her at the edge, looked down.

  “Squeak,” said Squeak, who had climbed up on my shoulder.

  “Yeah. You hang on tight, okay?” I said.

  “Squeak.” He held up one little paw and gave me a thumbs up.

  “Okay,” Flicker said. “They get bigger the more sarcastic and erroneous your conclusion. SoulSearcher’s lesson and all. So come up with good ones. Maybe we’ll get all the way across.” A flicker of flame rose at the corner of her red eyes.

  “Maybe?” I said. Double hopeful with a scoop of snark on top.

  “Think negative.” She winked, then jumped to the first pillar. “Agatha will spend her life being kind to kittens!” she shouted. The pillar grew wide enough for her to land. The pillar nearest me also grew in response to her statement.